Friday, June 24, 2022
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Your rod and your staff, they comfort me
My brother John and I moved heavy bedroom furniture and many boxes of books this morning. This afternoon my son Marc and I trimmed a wild, too high hedge and cut a big branch off the redbud that was encroaching on our house, while Margaret worked in her garden. Marc also mowed the grass and cleaned the gutters. It felt pretty good to get stuff done, exhausted as we were at the end.
We went for dinner at Sticky Rice in downtown Champaign, and everything tasted wonderful, including the Thai iced coffee and Bangkok shrimp fried rice. At dinner we talked about life in Waynesville, when Marc’s bus driver Marlene noticed whether anyone was home at our house, and if there were no cars in the driveway, she dropped Marc and Chris off at the neighborhood grocery she and her husband Earl owned. Just for a little while, you know, like a good shepherd would.
After dinner, on the way home we talked about a close-knit Korean family we know, and felt pretty close-knit ourselves.
As a shepherd tends his flock when he finds himself among his scattered sheep, so will I tend my sheep. I will rescue them from every place where they were scattered when it was cloudy and dark.
Another friend from Waynesville told a story on Facebook about finding a little dog locked in its owners’ car on a recent 99 degree afternoon. She told the Walmart folks, then called 911, then called 911 again. Nearly an hour later the police guy came, who told her he would “take care of it.” I wonder if the dog died. I’m sure my friend does too.
But what I noticed was that she spent nearly an extra hour at the Lincoln Walmart, trying to help. She was a good shepherd, right?
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters, he restores my soul.
Or, she has to decide if it’s appropriate to break another person’s car window (of course it’s not legal, but is it right?). My friend’s thoughts about that were probably different than those of the policeman. Who knows what the good shepherd should do?
While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
A good shepherd’s motivation always comes from deep inside. She is thinking of the lost lamb, of the thirsty sheep, of the one she is in charge of. Without her, the lamb will remain lost, the sheep will die of thirst. The surprise for me is that she looks around to see who needs care. She doesn’t wait for the needy person or lamb to come up and ask for help. My friend was a good Samaritan. The sheep (the dog) was not hers, but she didn’t care. She was a good shepherd.
Who among you, Jesus asked, having a hundred sheep and losing one, would not leave the ninety-nine in the desert and go after the lost one until he finds it?
In our counseling office in Urbana a beautiful picture painted by Ron DiCianni hangs on the wall opposite the couch where people often sit, nervous about what will happen next.
My family bought that painting, called “Heaven’s Balcony,” for me on Father’s Day many years ago. Around the picture the painter printed … “There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance.”
I need to be rescued sometimes, and I need to be a rescuer sometimes. So do we all. What else, really, is there to live for? God’s love pours through us, or it doesn’t.
Open up the spigot.
(Ezekiel 34, Psalm 23, Romans 5, Matthew 11, Luke 15)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
#
